


A Violent Affair

by Dreadful Weather Today (TearoomSaloon)



Series: Bedroom Hymns [4]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Angry Sex, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Violent Sex, and LARGE HAMMING IT UP, it can read that way if you like squint a bit and look through a straw while standing on your head, it's not dubcon but just in case anyone's a little skittish, with some cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 15:43:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1988523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TearoomSaloon/pseuds/Dreadful%20Weather%20Today
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was pissed, and she was leaving. She was pissed, leaving, and trapped between his chest and a door, his lips far too close for this to not go south in a matter of moments. If she learned one thing in these past few months, it was that his aggressiveness always had a violent climax—and a blissful release.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Violent Affair

**Author's Note:**

> Just a head's up, everyone is against a wall and they're really playing with the whole 'taunt you into submission' deal.

"But you’re not. You’re not listening, that’s the  _problem_.”

Alana had her hands folded over her chest, stance firm in the middle of the hallway. She was seconds from leaving, seconds from calling this whole fucking thing off and saving herself months and months of sneaking around and being disgustingly deceitful to everyone she cared about.

How did this all start?—Right, the pork roast. She made an errant comment about how he kept wheedling so she wouldn’t make weekend plans, or lunch dates, or practically anything he didn’t want.

And she was catching on.

"I  _am_  listening, which is why I think you’re being irrational.” He wasn’t keeping his temper too well, bits of red anger spilling out at the seams. The way he bared his teeth sent shivers down her spine.

"I’m going with Alissa. I’m fucking going, and nothing you say can or will stop me."

"Alana—"

"One more step and I swear, I swear to  _God_ , Hannibal, I will break this at its neck.”

He rose to his full height like a cobra, moving forward. His eyes were hot coals. “Will you? I don’t believe you have the  _nerve_  to cut and walk.” Another step and he closed the gap, looming over her like a lion over prey. “Close the door or there will be consequences.”

"Consequences? What  _consequences?_  This is a finished deal, we’re done.  _Done!_  And if _you have_  the audacity to threaten my academic standing over this, I will bring it to the board.”

With a sharp shove he slammed the door shut, pinning her back to the wood. “I asked nicely. If I repeat myself, I won’t be asking nicely. Do not  _question_  what I will or will not do, understand?”

"What the hell are you going to do? Seduce me?"

Actually,  _yes._

He was.

He started with teeth, biting hard on her lips. For about five seconds she was in painful bliss—which snapped away quickly and she slithered out of his grasp, remembering her anger. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, already breathing hard. The hunger in his eyes manifested deep in her stomach as a ret hot ball of need. She snarled, then charged.

His back crashed into the wall, fists balled into her shirt. Her teeth were sharp, and he growled as she bit at his exposed throat, sucking hard on the sensitive skin.

Fire red nails cut into her shoulders and she was pushed back, dangerously close to another surface he could throw her against. His breath was labored and the hunger had intensified, flushing his face and neck.

She bolted, sprinting through the house and up the stairs. He gave her a moment’s head start, definitely too wrapped up in the idea of the hunt to nip this bud as it started. Frantic and disoriented (her head was swimming with a confused mess of anger and arousal), Alana dove under his bed, watching for his footsteps through the tiny space between the carpet and the dust ruffle—because  _of course_  his bed had a dust ruffle.

He was silent when he entered the room, careful not to let her see, so she screamed when his hands found her ankles, wrenching her out from her hiding space. “I  _warned_  you. I warned you not to push me.”

“You’re like a giant kitten, so  _gentle_  and  _docile—”_

With a terrible roar he leapt like a tiger, smashing her against the floor. His hands were tight around her wrists, keeping her locked under him as he kissed and bit and burned his way across her jaw and down her neck. He ripped at her shirt, tugging it over her head and flinging it across the room. When his teeth made contact with a breast, she moaned.

"Are you wet yet?" It was barked, like an order.

"For you I’m dryer than the Sahara in the summer."

He dug a hand into her pants, two fingers running across her lips. “Liar.” Sitting back on his haunches, he licked his soiled fingers clean and rocked against her hips. “Ready?”

She could feel the fire rise up to her chest. “Never.”

"Then let’s begin."

He pulled her to her feet and she knocked him onto the bed, scrambling with his pants as his hands raked down her thighs, their clothes falling into a puddle on the floor. She didn’t wait for his shirt to come off before sinking down onto him, his heat filling her up. He was so  _fucking turned on_  by this it was driving her mad. All she had to do was yell and get huffy and he’d get rock hard in a matter of minutes?

Why hadn’t she been doing this from the start?

His nails dug in to the flesh over her hips, clawing to keep her in place as she moved against him too fast for his liking. The words from his mouth didn’t sound like words at all, strange sounds trying to conceptualize ideas and sentences, either demanding her to stop or begging her to continue. One of his hands moved to play with her clit, and the unexpectedness of it prompted an early climax. She fell to her hands, panting, forehead inches from his chest, muscles from her hips to her shoulders spasming.

"Fuck." His voice was choked and smoky.

“ _You_  botched this one, not me.”

With a snarl, he flipped them over, picking up where she left off. He was  _rough_ , much rougher than she, and her breath was being ripped from her throat, his hips grinding hard and fast against hers. He was biting again, pulling at her lips, making her raw wherever he touched. It sent her over the edge again and this time, he followed after, her name hot on his tongue.

He rolled off, staying incredibly close to her side. She turned to him, inching nearer until their foreheads touched. “I’m sorry,” he said as his breath came back. “I’m sorry I snapped. You’re right, I have been stealing you away.” When she didn’t answer, he tucked an arm around her waist, hugging her to him. “Go with Alissa tomorrow, I’m not going to vanish if you leave.”

"I don’t need your permission to—"

"You’re right, you don’t. I’m flattered you ask and am often too possessive to be rational, so next time, don’t."

"Why are you so possessive?"

"Because I treasure your company, and you’re important to me. My jealousy is irrational; you’re not my thing to own."

"What if I were? What if I were your thing, would it still be irrational?"

"Yes, absolutely. First off, that’s incredibly out of fashion—"

"No." She laughed, cupping his cheek. "Not like that. More like…if this weren’t an affair, and we could be seen together, as a couple…would you still be jealous?"

"If—and this is a hypothetical if—we were publicly a couple, and if you spent a lot of your time being social as you  _should_  be, I think…” He paused, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I think I’d be too busy falling in love with you to notice, or to care.”

She narrowed her eyes, grinning. “Liar.”

"That cheesy?"

"Oh, god, it was like something from out of those awful sparks books."

"Let us vow to never speak of it again."

"Vow accepted. Next order of business—"

"We’re doing business now? You’re conducting business post-coitus in my bed?"

"That term is a major turn-off, please note for all possible future uses. Business item number two, is this going to happen more often?"

"What part? The sex or the hammy lines? Because I’d appreciate the sex more often."

"You’re a horny bastard."

"This one beautiful woman I sometimes see arouses me greatly, it’s hard not to be."

"Hey William Shatner, can it. I meant the  _angry_  sex.”

"I’d call that violent sex, not angry."

"We were both angry and both violent. Is it going to happen again?"

"I personally would love to see more of it. And going solely on the dampness of your abandoned underwear, I’d argue so would you."

"Next time, though, maybe we can get angry at not each other."

He hummed in thought, snaking his other arm under and around her. “Were you actually planning to follow through?”

"A bit. Not really. No. But I wanted to have some sort of power over the situation."

"And that power has thoroughly reddened my neck, thank you. I’ll be in scarves for half a week."

"You’ll look marvelous in them." She pressed a kiss to his nose, smiling. "I’m getting cold, though. Can we get  _under_  the sheets for once?”

"Then you’re staying the night?"

"I was never not, you know."

He pulled the covers out from their place under the pillows, tucking her close when the blankets settled around their shoulders. “I know, but sometimes I like hearing you confirm it. Makes us feel tangible.”

"We are tangible. We’re made of solid matter."

"You should be glad my class is on the neurology of the brain and not poetic prose, or you’d fail abysmally."

"You should let me sleep, or I’ll get furious again."

"After tonight, that is no longer a punishment."

She curled tighter against him. “Shh, no, sleep. Or I’ll be too tired for lazy sex before I leave in the morning.”

"Then if you fall asleep right now, we can prevent a tragedy."


End file.
